


The Importance of Not-Leaving

by 7cinnamonroses



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Fever, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hallucinations, I think it counts as one!, Sickfic, Snoke Being a Dick, dangerous fever, sick!kylo, slight indication of Force Healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 07:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8479798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7cinnamonroses/pseuds/7cinnamonroses
Summary: When life is a nightmare, fever-dreams make for lovely company.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse other than having the flu. The last remnants of my own fever and the section of a Darth Maul novel (Shadow Hunter?!) I once read are to blame. Apparently Sidious did not give Maul any bacta when he was hurt in training and hey, don’t fix what ain’t broken, eh?
> 
> Also: Title was inspired by my favourite book. Not-Leaving is treated like a noun there and is defined as such: An act of trust and love, (often deciphered by children).

Kylo Ren is dying.

The way she tenderly smiles down at him proves the finality of his condition. The gravity of this conclusion eludes him for now and he is sure it is due to the fever eating away the remnants of his grasp on reality. Some unfathomably calm voice he has trouble recognizing wonders whether it is indeed the fever doing away with his care though. Is his grasp on the here and now of consequence when she is sitting next to him, her pretty, hazel eyes warm with affection? She’d never do this if he weren’t dying, he thinks with a note of sadness.

She has dimples, he realizes and every fibre of his being concentrates on registering and remembering this tiny detail. For however long he’s got left now, he is fond of the idea of holding this newly gained memory close.

During a brief and shocking instant, fight and resistance flickers up in him. It is struggling for dominance, wants him to stir away from the incarnation of comforting warmth and bliss that is her smile. The struggle attempts to tighten chains of reason around him, reminding him of how he got here. He is on a world close to the unknown regions. It makes him remember the manner of harsh training, unmerciful punishment and the refusal of proper medical care.

She can’t be here!

Snoke had not allowed him the ease bacta would’ve brought the burns and new cuts, adding fresh wounds with every new day under his immediate tuition.

She can’t be here!

Kylo, fearing the pull of the remaining light he felt stirring deep inside of him ever since the awakening of the Force within the newly fashioned Padawan Rey, welcomed the anguish. He coveted every new gash, felt relief every time blue bolt of energy set is nerves on fire, basked in anger and fury against every living, breathing being as well as those dead and burned.

She can’t possibly be here!

 **This can’t be the end!,** it is a faint, breathless hiss and he is no longer convinced about anything. His anger is slipping, his contempt toward his own mortality lacking it’s usual vigorous conviction. Demands and mockery are too low to be registered. They wither and die in the gentle comfort of her understanding smile. He has no use for the words that slip his mind without any sort of impact anymore. Why wouldn’t she be able to be here? She –he knows this!– is capable of anything and everything.

Kylo had tried and failed to bathe himself in the clean, cold, dark energy and now the light had festered. Just like the wound on his left arm that had brought the fever. He allows it. Too weak, too void of any other emotion than exhaustion to put up a fight. He had brought up the last resorts days ago and he lays there defenceless against the impact of the light. Her smile is back with him again, whisking his senses away from any remnant of pride or devotion to his cause.

 _It is alright, now.,_ it assures him without so much as a single word _. You are save with me now._

He believes every silent word.

It can’t be long now, for she shifts to sit closer to him. Her small, but strong hand reaches out to tentatively run the rough tips of her fingers over his hot forehead. Kylo knows he is delirious, because he can feel her cool skin, feels her brush some soaked strands of dark hair out of his face.

She smiles still, her eyes focused on his glassy ones. Kylo realizes that he can’t focus on her without tears spilling down his cheeks. Do they evaporate? Surely, his skin is hot enough to turn water into mist and he worries Rey might hurt from touching him. It is only now that he finds that his eyes were closed and he snaps them open quickly, panicking.

But she still sits there, waiting patiently, smiling reassuringly.

 _I’m not leaving. It’s not what I do…_ her sweet smile informs him without reproach and instantly he feels better. Somehow he knows that she’ll remain with him until the end. She won’t allow it, the horrible fate of dying alone.

 _Of course not, dear…_ the smile reassures him again and he sighs. This here, it isn’t so dreadful. A bitter thought roars through him like a furious rancor. This is better than he deserves and this hurtful truth sends new rivers down his face. It hurts. Kylo Ren is a dark, vibrating mass of black clothes and pale skin. His skin is slick with sweat, his organs slowly simmering, but recollecting his father’s face being illuminated by the red beam of his lightsaber and forgiveness tears his chest open and leaves nothing but raw aguish. A single sob echoes off the empty walls of his rooms.

His eyes search her face again and he is left with nothing but despair.

The smile is gone.

No! It had promised… SHE had promised the smile would stay. He needs it to stay to make everything else fall into oblivion. To make everything else loose consequence. He won’t be able to leave without its reassurance.

“Please…” the word is pressed out of a dry throat, a low rasp everything he is capable of.

She licks her lips and appears to be lost. Confused as to what he is asking for. But she remains there with him. The smile remains absent, but he is too overcome by relief to care. Rey is still here and he no longer cares how or why.

Their gazes are entwined and he feels a delightful heaviness wrap him up. This is fine. He can let go now. He is of no use to the Supreme Leader anymore. A weak, fevered, miserable shell. Kylo had disappointed Snoke for the last time. The lack of interference during those last couple of days proves it. Left to die. Useless… There’s no chance he’d be allowed back by his mother. Not after… Not after…

It would be better and so much easier and merciful for him to drift off now. Her being here with him a comfort he wouldn’t have dared to dream of.

His eyes grow heavy, but he refuses to leave her out of his sight. Her hair is different, he registers finally and she is wearing a different set of grey robes. They are a bit too large for her and he wishes he had had the opportunity to spend some more time pursuing her, make her see sense. That day on Starkiller had left him on edge, restless, but also on the brink of ease. It had not made his training any easier.

All that wasn’t of importance anymore. She is here and he is dying. He feels it and has no strength or the will left to do anything about it. Kylo’s eyes are still on Rey who looks young, endearing and beautiful in her confusion.

“…What is happening to you?” he hears her voice. He doesn’t want to speak. It hurts. He is tired. Kylo’s eyes finally slip closed and he already misses the sight of her. “Hey!” she suddenly exclaims and he feels three soft slaps against his cheek. Reluctantly, he forces his eyes back open. It is an inhumane effort, his whole body so, so heavy. It is weighing him down. He just wants to be free of it all, but something tugs at his awareness.

“…tired…” he rasps out and he hopes that this will suffice. There’s movement in the corner of the room, but he pays it no mind. She is the focus of his attention. Being the last remaining aspect of his life that is of importance, Rey is vibrant and brilliant and he wishes he’d be able to hold her right now. He wonders whether she’d allow it if he were to reach out for her. Kylo believes that this would be worth the effort of lifting his heavy arms. The thought of them crushing her frail bones keeps him still though. The thought of harming her almost makes him weep.

Nobody should be allowed to harm her! Were he to live, he’d make sure of it.

Suddenly she is over him, both of her hands cupping his face. Her eyes clasp his now, no trace of the gentle connection they had had only moments ago. Kylo realizes that he liked the serene intimacy of their gazes better than her insistent almost panicked intensity.

“No! You can’t!” he hears her and he finds himself weeping and sobbing over the injustice of her claim now. Why? Why won’t she let him go? Didn’t his uncle tell her how he had suffered? How they had cast him out? How he had been feared without there being any need to do so? How he had been thirsty for companionship and had only found animosity? His mind had been so agitated for year, why couldn’t he rest now? Rest! All he wanted was rest!

“It is just us now, remember? You said so yourself! You can’t go!” Rey’s voice urges and he attempts to free himself out of her insistent grasp, jerking his head from side to side. The movement is closer now, but he is still too lost in Rey. “I won’t let you!”

She is so cruel! Why is she so cruel?

He remembers that her cruelty is very well-founded and he stops his thrashing, breathing heavy. His lungs consume the cool air around him hungrily and he swears that he can taste her energy on his tongue for a minute there. Kylo will never be quite sure whether it is her energy that takes root inside of him and pulses through his veins. But she is there. Leaning in. Caressing him with her gaze.

“Don’t leave me behind, Ben.” he hears her whisper before her lips graze his forehead and for a merciful instant of eternity, his mind is clear. He feels her mind huddling close to his, accepts the warmth of the light she brings along and looses the man that is Kylo Ren in the depths of their shared bond. He is clean! For the first time in years he feels clean and untainted. His arms wrap around her, holding her close to him, urging her to remain. Ben Solo opens his eyes and their intense warmth pledges his faithfulness to her and her alone. He will leave this place. Rise to his feet and walk away and he would make it up to everyone. And he’d never leave her! Never! Never! He feels her hands in his hair and his lips run over every inch of skin he is able to come into contact with. Consuming, needing, he absorbs her cleansing presence, when…

The bacta is cooling his skin as the droids drop his body into the tank. The vitals appear on a screen and the two sets of cold eyes linger on each piece of information on Kylo Ren’s physical state.

“We waited as long as we could, Supreme Leader. A moment longer and he might have been lost to the fever…” Armitage Hux drawls unaffected. The young man turns inquisitively when no reaction can be heard. The old being’s gaze is set on the tank of bacta and the tall form of the other man. Suddenly the young General shivers. He is cold, so terribly cold while the other man growls in discontent.

A moment longer and he might have been lost to the light…


End file.
